


Ignition

by Anonymous



Category: Saath Nibhana Saathiya
Genre: Age Difference, Driving, F/M, Injury Recovery, Marriage of Convenience, hindi, hindi serials - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 22:48:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5803312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meera comes to the rescue and Dharam tries not to be grateful. AU. Promptfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ignition

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at india-forums.com under the username -mina-. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Prompt fromg ninag: "Dharams leg is hurting so they swap sides and Meera drives. He is amused to see a girl drive."

 

Meera was not in the habit of watching drivers. When she was a passenger, she assumed that the person behind the wheel was competent, and she either busied herself with her phone or stared moodily out the window. 

However, one irritating thing about her new husband was that she couldn't keep her eyes off him. Even when he was doing ordinary things and she should have been otherwise occupied, somehow her gaze would return to him. Over and over. She liked to see the ever-present smirk on his face - as long as it wasn't directed at her. And there was something compelling about the dark knowledge in his eyes, as if he had a world of powerful secrets that no one around him was worthy of knowing.

She wanted very badly to know those secrets. 

What was it that made him so sure of himself? So able to deal with any situation? So sharp-tongued and quick-minded when faced with opposition?

She couldn't stop thinking about him, and she couldn't stop watching him.

That afternoon as they drove back from her parents' house after a not-entirely failed attempt at playing happy family (her mother had managed to serve lunch to the unwanted damad with her own hands, her father didn't stare at her as though she were the most disappointing daughter known to mankind, and her dadi had stayed in her room supposedly sick with a headache), there was plenty else Meera could have devoted her mind to.

But somehow, as with all her spare moments in these strange six weeks since her marriage, her attention always circled back to him.

And as she watched him drive from the corner of her eye, she realized that something was wrong.

He was tense all over, his arm locked in rigid straight lines and his jaw clenched. It made no sense for him to be that stressed, as there was literally nothing but peace and quiet in the car. After their first round of insulting banter about her family's hypocrisy, they had fallen silent, each lost to their own thoughts. 

Intent on figuring out what was happening, she unthinkingly angled her body toward him, half-turning so she could see him better. And she noticed then that he was driving one-handed, his broad, fine-formed hand steering the wheel with the lightest touch. 

His other hand was clenched into his thigh, his fingertips digging deep against his customary white cotton dhoti. And as her gaze travelled down, she saw that he was holding his injured leg, and it looked unnaturally stiff. 

"Pull over," she snapped without a second thought. 

"Eyy naumoni, we're in the middle of a lane. As if I could pull over," he scoffed, sparing her a quick sideways glance before returning his gaze to the road like a responsible driver.

"Just. Pull. Over." Meera repeated through gritted teeth. Now that she understood the problem, she wasn't willing to sit back and ignore it. Let alone the issue of his pain, it was a safety concern to have him driving in this state!

"We'll be home in a few turns -"

"Pull over at the next light or I'll grab the wheel and do it for you."

That made Dharam look at her again, this time with wide eyes and a twisted frown that seemed to be asking her if she was crazy. Then she saw him remember that he already knew she was crazy, and with a sigh he flicked on his indicator to prepare to pull over.

Meera was satisfied to see that his shoulders actually relaxed a bit. Thinking about her insanity was surely more comfortable for him than thinking about his still-healing leg. 

Dharam guided the car out of traffic and pulled up to a curb. He cut the engine and turned to her. "Fine, we're stopped, now what do you want? If you think I'm going to go and buy you something from the street stalls -"

"Get out, we're switching places," Meera said briskly. She unclipped her seatbelt and her hand was already on the door. 

Dharam grabbed her wrist. A flare of heat flashed up her arm and throughout her body, the same jolting thrill that she always felt on the rare occasions that he touched her. This time she was able to ignore the rush of hormones, because she had made up her mind to take the driver's seat and knew he wasn't going to make it simple. 

She peeled his grip from her hand, noticing despite herself how firm and powerful his fingers were. Once she was free of him, she opened her door without bothering to explain further.

By the time she made it around the car to his side, he was glowering with impatience. "What are you up to, chokri?" he growled. "We could be home by now if -"

"I'm driving the rest of the way," she announced, not giving him a choice about it. "Your useless leg will get us into a crash. Come on, get out."

She saw a flare of anger flash in his eyes, followed by a split-second hint of embarrassment. She knew it was dangerous to mock his injury, but she wasn't the type of girl to waste time coaxing someone when she could boss them around instead. And in this case she thought it might even help if she made him annoyed with her, because it would distract him from his stubbornness about continuing to drive as though he wasn't at all in pain.

She managed to get him to stand up, pulling out his crutch so that he could steady himself as he leaned against the car. But still he held her back, saying scornfully, "You can't drive. Do you think it's a toy, that you could -"

"Oh hello," Meera snapped, unwilling to let him finish nonsensical statements. "I've been driving for years. I'm not one of your helpless troupe girls, ok? I'm Meera Mo-" she broke off then, noticing the expectant smirk forming at the corner of his mouth, as if he knew exactly what she was going to say and could already answer her back. "Meera Suryavanshi," she corrected smoothly. "And I can do many things, including driving better than a hard-headed old goat that cannot admit when his lame leg is making it impossible to sit straight," she concluded, standing with her arms crossed. She inclined her head pointedly at his crutch.

"Did you just call me a -" Dharam began incredulously, his voice shaded by amazement more than anger, but again Meera didn't let him finish.

"Yes I did, because that's what you are," she said, turning to help him walk to the passenger side. She hooked her arm around his waist, encouraging him to lean against her shoulder. His arm came to rest heavily across her shoulders, and then he actually let her guide him to the other side of the car.

She wondered with a twinge of anxiety just how much pain he must be in not to argue with her further. 

Dharam settled into the passenger seat, grumbling about impertinent chits who thought they could fly. But apparently he trusted her enough to let her take the wheel, as he made no further attempt to inform her that she was incapable of driving. 

As Meera restarted the ignition, the old feeling of delicious freedom surged through her veins, the happy association she always got from being in control of a car. That was quickly replaced by the annoying realization that she hated driving in a sari, but obviously this time it couldn't be avoided. Until she had that overbearing Gaura further under her thumb she could hardly leave the house in anything else. And it wasn't like she could just change into jeans to drive the last few minutes of the way back home.

She smoothly navigated the car back onto the road. She was thankful to realize that she remembered the way back well enough to not have to ask him for directions. 

Until she passed the second stoplight, her concentration was entirely on the road. Then she relaxed a bit, confident that she had everything under control. 

And she realized then that he was openly watching her. His gaze was like a caress, a slight touch she could feel at the side of her face. As if he were running his fingertip down her jaw and along her throat.

It was not comfortable to be scrutinized this way, and yet she couldn't bear to turn around and tell him off. If he wanted to look at her...he could look. She wasn't bothered by it. Or if she was, she wouldn't show him any sign.

Dharam was silent until they approached the gates of his house. Then he turned his gaze away from her, looking out on his property as though he was seeing it from a new angle.

"So you  _can_  drive," he murmured, sounding as impressed as if she'd told him she had built a staircase to the moon. Impressed, but also amused, as though driving was some peculiar hobby instead of a life skill.

And underneath that there was also a sense of surprise. He still expected her to be generally useless, and yet here he'd seen she could actually be competent.

Meera rolled her eyes. A sarcastic reply was on the tip of her tongue, but at the last moment she decided to bite it back. Better to just savour the small victory of surpassing his expectations.

As the car slowed to a stop, Dharam's amusement gave way to a frown. "So much for my izzat. What will the naukars think, seeing that I let you drive me around like a baby?" he said, his rich, deep voice taking on an adorably petulant tone. 

Meera grinned as she made her way around to his side. As she opened the door for him to help him stand, she smiled down and told him, "They will think that their malkin knows how to take care of her own." She didn't think twice to realize how proprietary she was sounding, making a claim on not just his staff and his wealth but also on him, personally.

"Malkin, hmm?" he said with a raised eyebrow. He refused her support as they walked into the house, standing on his own and using his crutch to move forward. "You be careful, chokri. Just because you didn't crash today doesn't mean you're safe in the air." 

Meera huffed in exasperation. "Or, you know, you could just say thank you."

Dharam's only response was a smirk, and she didn't have to be told that those two words were not likely to ever cross his lips for her. But, as they made their way to their room, each returning to the quiet of their own thoughts, Meera somehow knew that he did appreciate what she had done. And for the first time in ages, she felt the simple satisfaction of getting something right.

**Author's Note:**

> Hindi glossary:
> 
> Damad - son-in-law  
> Dadi - paternal grandmother  
> Naumoni - foolish girl  
> Chokri - girl, lass  
> Izzat - respect/pride/standing  
> Naukars - serving staff  
> Malkin - mistress of the home/chatelaine


End file.
